


You're My Witness?

by teakturn



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Investigations, Murder Mystery, Rescue Missions, Romance, Sex Worker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6550558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakturn/pseuds/teakturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Hale Santiago has been murdered under mysterious circumstances. His partner, Detective Dyson Thornwood, has decided he must solve this murder, if not for himself then for Hale's family. His investigation brings him to Kenzi, a pickpocketing thief who seems to be the last person in contact with Hale before he died. He immediately suspects her involvement in his partner's death, but she refuses to be of any help.</p><p>Unfortunately for them there's a misunderstanding with the people actually behind Hale's death, and Dyson is forced to take Kenzi into his care. Without her, Hale's murder may go unsolved, and Dyson is not ready to admit defeat yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm back with another Dyson/Kenzi fic. I'm sorry for my absence and I know I have a lot of explaining to do.

Mackenzie Malikov has had an exponential amount of bad luck for as long as she could remember. There was the time when she was thirteen and on her way to becoming a ballet prodigy and she “accidentally” fell down a flight of stairs and broke her ankle. There was the year she had to live on the streets and steal food from school (when she did attend). There was all of the unfortunate emergency room visits that usually ended up with the nurses on call learning her name and her favorite brand of soda. Bad luck followed her like a cloud.

And now, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a room with two cops obviously pulling Bad Cop/Good Cop on her, she felt the cloud thunder ominously, as if it’s only just gearing up to make her life a further hurricane of shit.

She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to trust in the fact that no matter how shitty her life was, at any moment it could be so much worse.

Case in point, after having to witness the murder of yet another innocent person who’d been unlucky enough to consider her a friend, she was now being questioned by cops because she was the last person the dead guy had talked to before biting the bullet.

Mentally, she winced. Maybe it was too soon for bullet puns. Especially with these two cops watching her carefully, waiting for anything incriminating so they could lock her up and throw away the key.

“Mackenzie, is it alright if Detective Thornwood and I ask you a few questions about the last time you saw Detective Santiago?” the cop who spoke was “Good Cop”, a pretty woman in her early thirties with chocolate brown eyes and beautiful brown hair.

She wasn’t much taller than Kenzi herself, but she made up for it with heels that didn’t look at all appropriate for the workplace. But then again neither was the plunging neckline and sleek moto jacket.

The cop behind her, Detective Thornwood, just brooded silently near the door. He was easily a whole head above the both of them, even with the other cop in heels, and exuded a silent power that leaned towards intimidation with not much effort on his part. He was built, but not in a cop way. He was built like he went to the gym to blow off steam, maybe even go a few rounds sparring or with a punching bag.

His lightly tanned skin seemed at odds with the ruddy gold red curls cut short atop his head, but the warmth in his skin and hair was cooled somewhat by the ice in his blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to look through Kenzi and see everything a cop hates. A punk kid, put into the system young and never quite out of it. A rap sheet as long as his arm and enough snark to make even the most patient of cops lose their temper. She hadn’t even said a word yet but she knew he was already on to her.

“Mackenzie?” the Lady Cop tried again. She kept her voice soft, her face open and curios. Kenzi almost fell for the, “You can trust me” look in her eyes. But she knew better, she didn’t have to say anything she didn’t want to unless they made it clear she was a suspect. And when they do that she’ll cry lawyer and take whatever public defender they throw at her.

When the cop looked back towards her partner for help, he sighed and stalked forward to sit imposingly in the chair directly across from Kenzi. How someone managed to look intimidating while lowering himself into a chair was a mystery to her, but she found herself breaking his ice cold gaze to look back into the warmth of the lady cop.

“We have your fingerprints all over Detective Santiago’s place. We have your phone number listed several times on his cell’s call list and there have been several text messages travelling back and forth between the two of you. Don’t you think we have a right to investigate that suspicious activity? Especially when you didn’t turn yourself in for questioning once the death of someone you were obviously close to was announced on the news.”

Kenzi tried not to flinch at the low baritone flowing calmly out of the detective's mouth. The way he spoke booth soothed and irritated her. He talked like it was a forgone conclusion that she was a cop killer. But this wasn’t her first rodeo, and she’d not bow down to some stuck up pig because he thought he knew all about her.

“Does that make me a suspect?” Kenzi asked the table in front of her. She could see the little surprised lift of an eyebrow from the lady cop. She had obviously expected Kenzi to keep up with her stony silence routine until they told her she was free to go.

Detective Thornwood on the other hand didn’t bat an eye, “You haven’t exactly been cooperative, have you?”

Kenzi squinted up at him, “I don’t think I asked you that? Do you often pull people in for questioning because they don’t immediately subject themselves to questioning for something they _didn’t_ do?”

If anything, her snark made him smirk. She’d been hoping for him to get frustrated, for him to lose his cool so she could get some one on one time with the lady cop. Kenzi knew if she could get the lady cop alone she’d be out of her in no time. And the sooner the better honestly, who knew who was watching the station this very minute.

But instead the Detective leaned forward, as if drawn by her obvious annoyance, “Why so defensive Mackenzie?”

“Kenzi!” Kenzi snapped, “Enough with this Mackenzie shit. The only person who’s ever called me Mackenzie was my father and despite the obvious crows feet I doubt you’re my daddy.”

Lady Cop smiled before she could stop herself, shoving her mouth into the crook of her arm to fake a cough as she chuckled at Kenzi’s continued snark. Thornwood, unlike his partner, was not at all amused.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to tell us _Kenzi_?” he put an unnecessary stretch on her name, spitting it out in pieces as if it burned his tongue just to say it. 

They grimaced at each other and Kenzi wondered how long until she could lawyer out of this conversation. Lady Cop was cool and all, but Detective Dog Breath could use a mint or two. He was pushing all her buttons just by sitting there, and she was more than sure he felt the same about her.

"I don't feel comfortable. I feel like I'm a suspect and when I was picked up by you guys this morning you never made a formal arrest. Should I call my lawyer?"

Thornwood narrowed his eyes, "Do you feel like you need a lawyer? Normally when someone calls for their lawyer so soon it means they have something to hide." The detective canted his head to the side in a way that eerily reminded her of a puppy and whispered, "Do you have something to hide?"

Kenzi narrowed her eyes and glanced back towards Lady Cop for some cue as to how to proceed. The guy was getting to her alright? She'd been given her script before they'd even come to pick her up, and now she was being forced to ad lib. Going off script meant she'd run her mouth and the last time she ran her mouth to a cop she'd lost the first person she's trusted in over a decade.

The cop was right about Hale...er- Detective Santiago. They'd been close. Closer than she's allowed herself to be with anyone for a long time. She'd told him things, trusted him. And he'd looked at her in a way no one had ever looked at her before. Like she mattered and her life was worth more than what she could do for him.

This cop was a dick, pushing buttons just to get a reaction, pushing his nose in something he knew nothing about. "Look. Hale and I knew each other. We met, we got along. And then we became bed buddies. I don't see what that has to do with whatever investigation you've got going on, but I ain't apart of it. So if you would kindly go and get me a coffee for my troubles, that'd be nice." Kenzi smiled her fakest smile and allowed them to see how affected she was by Hale's death.

She wasn't a complete monster. She had cared about him. Maybe not as much as he cared about her, but she felt that she could one day get there. She wanted to get there for him.

Detective Thornwood leaned slowly away from her, pushing away from the table and excusing himself just as slowly, all the while shaking his head before shutting the door too softly for it to give the tell tale _‘click’_. Effectively leaving her to the mercies of Lady Cop.

Kenzi turned her attention the remaining cop and raised an eyebrow.

_"You wanna go at it too? Question my motives for not running into the pig pen?"_

Lady Cop offered a friendly smile and shrugged her shoulders.

_"Guess there’s nothing else to say."_

Lady Cop stood and Kenzi followed her lead, ever ready to escape and get as far away from the police station as she could. Her body had broken out in hives the second she’s walked in here, and all she could think about was how great a bath sounded at the moment.

Anything to wash off the stink of a couple dozen dirty pigs.

“Look, Kenzi, I know you’re probably in mourning after losing a friend, but we could really use your help on this case. Despite being one of our own, Santiago was a dear friend to both Detective Thornwood and I. If you know anything,” Lady Cop produced a business card from a pocket inside her moto jacket.

Kenzi took it, despite knowing she’d never find a reason to call. And followed the detective’s lead out of the room, and later back to the front lobby she’d first seen when she’d first walked into the station. When she leaves she turns in the opposite direction of where she’s supposed to be headed, and makes her way to the black car she’d known would be waiting for her once she exited the building.

Knocking on the windows in a hurried and impatient manner, Kenzi barely allows the person inside the car to get the window down before she’s speaking.  
“Tell Fearless Leader I haven’t said anything at all. Tell ‘em that I’ve learned my lesson and that I’d like to go on with my life rather than finish out an already shit morning.

Bruce nodded dumbly, and pointed at the wire still attached to Kenzi’s skin. She huffed impatiently and began ripping at the tape sticking to her sweat slicked skin. Once she had it off, she thrust it into the car window and offered a two fingered salute, before turning and hurrying in the opposite direction of the car. Kenzi had no doubt that more would come in his place, with more questions and not so subtle threats. But Kenzi’s learned her lesson. The cops don’t scare her half so much as Fearless Leader, they couldn’t get her to speak if they tried.

With one more wary glance at her surroundings, Kenzi finally tuned in the direction of home, and began the long walk. She had to clock in before three and her little meeting with the cops took her halfway across town without any bus money to get her back home. 

 

 _No matter_ , Kenzi thought to herself. _I’ve walked farther and longer in less in shoes less comfortable than these_. And she was actually in a nice part of town for once. She wouldn’t have to deal with the usual thirsty dirtbags that prowled around her part of town.

For once, her luck didn’t look all that bleak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of the school year and I'm desperately trying to balance my last year of high school and personal dilemmas.
> 
> There's no set writing schedule just yet. But there will be eventually. This is gonna end up long, say 30 chapters +??? So eventually i will have to start posting on a set timeline.

“Dead end.” Bo sighed. She flopped the case file on Dyson's desk before throwing herself into her chair. Normally he’d admire the sensuous curve of her calf as it rested itself on her desk. But at the moment Dyson was more preoccupied with more pressing matters. Like the fact that the pickpocket prostitute has something to with his best friend's murder. Hale had obviously been hiding her, she meant something to him and Dyson couldn’t figure out what.

Dyson blamed himself for Hale’s death. What cop wouldn’t? It was his job as Hale’s partner to back him up and watch his back. But the weeks leading up to his death found Dyson busy. Mostly with Bo, and Hale had understood, he really had. But obviously there had been some miscommunication between the two of them. Dyson should have noticed when his phone calls to meet up had gone unanswered more often than not.

“Dyson, you gotta stop beating yourself up, it’s making you grumpier than usual and that’s not good for interrogations.” Bo tried to tease. Despite her sexy smirk her eyes revealed a lot more than Dyson needed to see.

She was worried about him, and he supposes that’s his fault for being such a mess at the moment. It’s kind of hard to hide from the girlfriend you’re kind of living with that you’re struggling with the death of the only best friend you’ve had since you left the military. But Bo has been more than he could have ever asked for. Keeping him sober enough not to get put on probation, being there with him when nightmares of Hale’s unseeing eyes haunted his dreams, etc.

Bo had even handled telling the Santiago’s, doing what he, as Hale’s partner, should have done himself.

“Sorry. I felt like we were actually close this time, did you see the way she reacted when I-”

“I saw a young girl, too skinny for someone her age, looking haunted and trying her best to appear older. If you weren’t standing behind me brooding all the time then I really think we could have gotten something from her.” Bo interrupted.

She was right, kind of. The girl knew something, something vital to this case. Why else would she get all defensive? But Bo was wrong about her being close. That girl had no intention of telling them anything. She was scared, scared of something farther reaching than the police. He’d seen her rap sheet, countless arrests for theft, street walking, drug possession. A brief stint in juvie. Her trail ran dry around the time Hale started dodging his calls.

As if his partner had tried to keep her out of trouble. That's also when they started texting. The Chief of Police wouldn't let them subpoena her phone records, but Dyson had pocketed Hales phone before Evidence could get to it. It was a risky move, something that would later bite him in the ass, but what he'd found there had been golden.

Texts, several hour long phone calls, and photos. Nothing explicit like you'd think a hooker would send to her boyfriend, but sweeter. The two of them out at the zoo, the two of them sharing an early morning together in Hale's bed. Embarrassing for the taker if anyone found them, but sweet nonetheless.

They had to mean something.

“Look, you’re probably going to obsess over all this and end up missing lunch so I’m gonna go down to records pull up some files and while you go out and get me some Chinese food.” Bo smiled flirtatiously. She exaggeratedly batted her eyelashes, as if Dyson wasn’t already a sucker for her pearly white grin, and tilted her head coquettishly.

 _Well_ , Dyson thought, _She’s not wrong_. The Chief was already on his case about wrapping this up. He had no witnesses, no leads, that interview today with “Kenzi” was as close as he’d gotten to...well, anything. Bo probably won’t be much help if he fights her on lunch and he needs her on this.

With a sigh Dyson stood from his desk and gathered up his coat, “From that place that’s easily health code violation pending?” Dyson smirked. 

Bo answered with a dimpled grin, “Greasier the better, remember?”

Dyson left the room with a good natured eye roll and made a mental note to add some type of vegetable to Bo’s order. She may call him a carnivore but the girl acts like she’s allergic to anything green.

When Dyson finally found himself outside, he squinted into the blinding afternoon light and tried to fight off the mid-January chill. He debated walking to get the food or taking his car, when the choice was taken out of his hands by “Kenzi”.

She was leaning into a car, pale as death, talking hurriedly and looking impatient. And scared. Oh she was putting on a brave face for whomever was in the car, but Dyson could see her shivering, no shaking, as she talked.

Before she could look over and see him, Dyson ducked behind the building but crept closer so he could hear her better. Something inside of him just knew this would be important.

“Tell Fearless Leader I haven’t said anything at all. Tell ‘em that I’ve learned my lesson and that I’d like to go on with my day rather than finish out an already shit day.” he heard her say.

Fearless Leader? He’d heard that somewhere, it was nagging at him but he knows he’s heard that somewhere. When Dyson turns to peek out from his corner, he sees Kenzi and the car parting ways. She was walking briskly, quicker than he thinks she has any right to in heels easily the same length as her hand.

He feels a part of him urging him to follow her. This wasn’t protocol at all, and if he made the wrong move she’d be in the right to report him to his superior. 

But Hale…

Dyson knew, deep down, that she had something to do with Hale’s death. What she'd just said had to prove it.

But Bo…

Bo would understand. She’d been just as heartbroken as him when they found Hale’s body. She'd be okay with missing one lunch while he followed a lead.

Making sure to stay just out of her field of vision, Dyson began to follow Kenzi. He had no idea where this would lead him, but if it helped in anyway bring Hale’s murderer to justice, he’d follow it through.


	3. Chapter 3

Kenzi lived in a shitty part of town, in a shitty apartment complex, with shitty plumbing and even shittier neighbors. A fine layer of dust covered every surface and she sneezed when a gust of wind from the one window she could kind of get open, let in the first stiff breeze her apartments seen in months. The room was just as trashed as Fearless Leader’s goons left it, just as Kenzi left it when she unofficially moved in with Hale almost a year ago.

It had been her reluctance to believe someone as good as Hale could happen to someone as messed up as her that kept her paying her rent for so long.

“At least something worked out,” Her voice bounced around the room jarringly. As if the epic sense of _alone_ that greeted her upon opening the door wasn’t enough to drive through her just how gone Hale really was. Falling for the cop had been unexpected. But he was persistent in his pursuit of her, and if she can be honest with herself about anything it’s that it felt nice to see someone who thought she was worth more than what she could do for them.

Her wig itched, it was a pink thing that curled around her chin and tickled the back of her neck, the last piece of her Halloween costume from last year. Hale had to work that night and none of her old friends were talking to her once they figured out she was shacking up with a cop. 

She’d decorated the whole apartment in paper mache bats and paper jack o’ lanterns. She'd tried to go for a theme of " _Twilight Zone_ " but had a limited budget and refused to ask Hale for money. Since most of her money went to stocking up on candy, booze, and decorations, her costume could be described as.... she tried her best. Aside from a “silk” kimono she’d swiped from a street vendor downtown (and the wig of course) Kenzi wore nothing.

In a way she was hoping that Halloween would be the night they went past "heavy" petting into the real deal. Hale had been adamant that while she helped him on the case they never progress past kissing, her profession be damned.

Hale was the first real gentleman she’d ever met.

“Nope! No crying in dodgeball.” Kenzi hastily swiped away a traitorous tear and set about righting her meager furniture. Cleaning would take her mind off the late cop for sure. God knows they were both allergic to it. If it wasn’t for his sister’s intervening they’d have been living in a sty. The maid she hired was a good person to talk to while Kenzi spent her days lounging around Hales apartment.

Cleaning took too little time, so she decided to take a shower. She took the wig off carefully, setting it upon a mannequin head with more care than the synthetic strands probably needed. She’d gotten into the habit of taking care of what she owned, what little she owned. Hale always did. 

Of course his things were often well made or family heirlooms or cost more than Kenzi did put together. Of course he’d take care of things like that. It was in his nature.

He took care of Kenzi too. Hale-

“Ugh enough with the sob story!” Kenzi exclaimed. She stared hard at her reflection, searching for….anything. Maybe the girl Hale found something worth dying for.

She was skinnier than he’d have liked to see her. Then again she’d always been a bit small for her age, she couldn’t help it. 

Only now her cheeks had a distinct sunken in look, and thanks to her recent lethargy making putting on makeup seem kind of juvenile her pale freckled skin was bare and looked sickly in her dim fluorescent lights. She seemed washed out. From the blue in her eyes, to the pale pink of her lips. Even her hair had seen better days. Blonde roots peeked out from under red dye.

A new look was a must, but what exactly could she do? She had limited funds and no favors to call on.

A shower first. A shower would be a good start. After that maybe dinner, and after that sleep.

Hale would be on her about her eating habits.

_“You can’t substitute the calories in alcohol for the calories in food Kenzi.”_

_“Of course I can’t, alcohol has less.”_

 

She hadn’t gone to his funeral.

It was more of his sister’s warning than Fearless Leader that kept her away. Valerie didn’t like her, in fact Kenzi’s pretty sure Val hated her.

But she loved Hale, and she respected anyone with sense enough to love him too. So she tolerated Kenzi. She understood what Hale meant to Kenzi and what Kenzi meant to Hale. She promised her some final gift from Hale, something he’d planned on giving to her but couldn’t for some reason.

It’s locked up in evidence now, along with most of her clothes and...their things. Things she’d added to his apartment, things they’d bought together when his apartment became _their_ apartment. She’d just been too much of a coward to go down there and get it.

_“It’s not cowardly to wait, Kenz. You’re not ready, lil’ mama, and that’s okay.”_

_“It shouldn’t be this hard! This is what I do! I fuck people why can’t I just get it over with and fuck you?”  
_

“Because that’s not what this is and you know it.”

Sleeping in a bed alone is so strange to her now.

Before, she’d come to bed, a sketch pad in her hands, and talked to Hale about the designs she’d been thinking of. She’d never been smart enough for University but she’d always had a thing for fashion. Sketching out garments she’d try to make at some point had come natural to her. Telling him about her designs before bed had been natural for her. It became _their_ thing.

She’d clamber into bed in his work shirt, dizzy off the smell of his cologne and the sweat of the day, and bounce around disturbing case files and folders until he finally reached for her and settled her next to him. He’d sit and listen intently when she went over what she’d drawn for that day, ask her real questions about how she intended to make them and how much fabric would cost.

She’d kiss him before he could offer up his credit card. Kiss him long and hard so he forgot about money and let her have her way. When they pulled apart, he’d push red curls away from her face and look deep into her eyes as if he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her.

_“What did I do to deserve you?”_

_“Probably pissed off a gypsy.”_

_“Maybe I rubbed a genie lamp the wrong way?”_

_“Maybe asked a leprechaun for more than three wishes?”_

_“Or maybe I don’t deserve you at all, maybe you’re some bizarre twist of fate.”_

_“Okay, that’s enough what if’s for now buddy. Tell me about the latest and greatest down at Law & Order.”_

She finds hair dye underneath her sink while looking for a razor. It’s from a slurge purchase she’d made when she bought the red hair dye and several other crazy colors. Back before she figured out the wigs could give her all the fun of a new color, without all the hassle of chemicals.

Her hair hasn’t been black in ages. When she’d first met Hale he’d liked the pale skinned, red hair look so she kept it. Her natural blonde frizz had never been her style and Hale agreed it made her look younger than her 23 years.

But black would match perfectly. She was in mourning, something her Orthodox Bubbie had taken very seriously with all five her late husbands. And looking at her red hair in the mirror each morning hurts as much as waking up in bed without Hale.

_”You know every time I read from these files you end up falling asleep on me.”_

_“Call that a testament to your story telling.”_

_“These aren’t fairytales lil’ mama, these are the things that might let me save you.”_

_“You’ve already saved me. I don’t need to be saved anymore.”_

_“Kenz…”_

_“You talk like you’re going to leave me.”_

_“Hale promise me you won’t leave me. Promise me!”_

_“I love you. And I promise I will do everything in my power to stay by your side.”_

**Author's Note:**

> So the reason you can no longer find any of my Dyson/Kenzi work is because I deleted them all off of Ao3 in a fit on self hatred. I was really feeling down about myself and my writing and despite the amazing feedback from some of you I couldn't help but think that something was wrong with what I'd written.
> 
> I still have my notes and outlines of each story I'd posted and those that I never got around to and someday, I may repost them (hopefully when they're better edited), but that seems kind of unlikely.
> 
> I hope you guys give this story a chance because it's shaping up to be a long one and I'm really excited to tell this story.


End file.
